The Last Star Falls
by The Black Tempest
Summary: Sirius didn't deserve to rot in Azkaban. His lover and Remus knew that. So they decided to go against everything in order to get him out and make things right. half marauders era - half the golden trio era
1. Chapter 1

He was there.

And as she stared at him, teal and grey eyes drinking each other, she couldn't feel the joy she once did, nor the surprise she should've felt after rescuing him. She couldn't laugh or cry. The only thing she was able to feel in that moment was cold. That frost that doesn't come from the outside, but from the loneliness and pain she felt inside.

Not saying anything, she started running again, and as she grabbed his hand, though rough and cold itself, she felt only a little bit of warmth. He was finally there and she could touch him. He was alive and soon enough free. She pulled him after her, and unlike before, he left his feet weakly follow her, without question.

Even though their steps were the only thing to be heard in that part of Azkaban, none of them said anything. But they knew – they knew they were both scared, both suffering, both wintry. So they held tighter to each other's hand, as tight as they could, and didn't care about the pain in their feet, or the fact that they were losing their now synchronized breaths.

He wondered if she knew where she was heading to, but she never hesitated in taking a single step, like she had the entire labyrinth of stone and cement halls memorized by heart. And she did. The once reckless and careless Amara Moody was now most precise and punctual, like a machine. Her eyes wandered all around, her wand in her hand, ready to attack. No trembling hands, no trace of doubt in her eyes. None of them had any idea what was coming next, but whatever it was, she was ready.

They were still running when the cold intensified and the air filled with fear even more. Before them stood now three cloak-covered creatures, spreading a sensation of such helplessness that it almost felt unbearable. Sirius Black held still and felt his knees running out of strength as his whole body seemed to weaken even more under the effect of such presence. He couldn't remember how he got there or where he was heading to, nor did he need to, since the simple thought of moving his legs seemed impossible. His eyes stopped blinking.

And then he saw it – the hope he lost months ago, materializing right in front of him in the shape of a silver dog-looking light, coming from the tip of Amara's wand. He took a quick look at her, for the first time since she got here; her face was full of mud and blood, with pieces of purple hair soaked with sweat getting into her mouth and eyes. Even though she looked nothing like the girl he saw before he got imprisoned, not even her expression resembling the girl he used to know, his eyes still shone in a way they only did for her.

He heard only a shadow of her voice saying the spell before she started running again, her hand still tied to his. But Amara didn't allow herself to look at him, not even for a second, as she knew that no matter how strong her happy memories were, they couldn't cope with the image of the Sirius Black she was now rescuing – the one that lived in the body of her old lover, using his memories, but replacing his usual smirk with a year and a half of guiltless imprisonment imprinted on his face.

She had to admit that no matter how much she trusted his bravery and will, she also knew that now he'd be changed. And she could fight dementors and aurors and Death Eaters all at once and she would've been ready, but she would never be prepared for THAT.

Amara grabbed Sirius' hand tighter, only to reassure herself that he was still there, and even though his fingers were now weakened, she held them strong enough for both of them. And as he kept looking at the purple of her hair, he wasn't afraid anymore, so his eyes didn't move until he saw the ray of light coming from the distance, and realized that the light was where they were heading to.

His hands started getting sweaty and his breath hardened, but still moved on, following her through the dark. He wanted to take a look at her eyes, but he didn't. They kept on running until his body hit the ground and he moved no more.


	2. Chapter 2

***1973***

That day went for Amara slower and with more trouble then she wanted it to. Ever since she reached Hogwarts, she felt an urge to just go into her room and stay there, doors locked, until someone physically made her get out. Instead, she had to follow this grumpy man and his cat through long, dark and creepy hallways, going hell knows where.

'Hurry up!' he mumbled as they passed a classroom. She threw a look inside and caught a glimpse of some boys standing in the back of the class, laughing at another one whose potion had exploded into his face. She rolled her eyes and told herself that maybe if she was patient and got good grades her father might let her turn back to Durmstrang. But that was only daydreaming.

' Wait a sec!' she yelled after the man when she realized he was almost a hallway away from her. He didn't wait for her, but the cat threw her a disgusted look. If there was one thing Amara disliked more than moving to another school, it was moving to a school with insufferable cats. She raced the pace to keep up with them and only stopped to look around when they found themselves in front of a Gryffin-like statue **.**

'Just because Dumbledore made an exception for you to transfer here doesn't mean we all have to wait up for you!' he spat at her. He then turned around to the statue and mumbled something that sounded a lot like 'marmalade', which made the Gryffin spin around enough as to reveal a narrow stairway **.** Amara was too busy to observe it ,until a shaking and rough hand grabbed her arm and pulled her on the first steps. It was not until they reached a new room, placed way higher than the hallway they came from, that she realized how tall the building actually was.

The man pushed the door aside, then stuffed Amara through it. When she turned her head to ask him what they were looking for, he was already down the stairs, so she gave up trying. She entered the room he forced her in, and found herself into what seemed like an office. She was not much of an observer, but she could still notice the tones of books, the dozens of portraits hanging on the walls, a pensive like the one she once saw in her father's room and a phoenix looking strangely at her.

'Hey there, little guy!' she said to the bird, but didn't come too close. She had once read in a book that you should let all animals come to you first, but the bird didn't move, so she remained in her spot as well. She walked her eyes through the room, though, desperately trying to find something that would remind her of Durmstrang and of home.

When she reached the pensive again, she remembered that despite the fact that her father repeatedly told her to stay out of his room, at the age of 12, Amara found herself looking through his stuff while he was out haunting bad guys or something. She then 'accidentally' let her head fall into the pensive, just to find the only glimpse she would ever catch of her mother – a short, plump woman, with short red hair – disappearing into the distance. Her father caught her and that was the last time she ever saw his room. And when she tried to ask him more about her he only got annoyed and shut her up. After 2 days of trying, she gave up.

'That was Argus Filch, our caretaker, and that was his cat, Mrs. Norris' a voice said from upstairs – only then did she realize there were even more stairs – and she turned her head in its direction, discovering a tall, white-haired wizard with a long beard and dressed in a purple robe. 'You must be Amara, I suppose' he then added.

'That shall be me, yes.' She replied, not much more enthusiastic than she had been until now.

'I'm Albus Dumbledore, the –'

'Headmaster, yeah.' She snapped. 'Dad already told me all this sh – stuff.'

'I should've imagined he already told you everything. He also told me about you. Seeing that you had good grades back at Durmstrang, it shouldn't be hard for you to catch up with schoolwork. After all, this is one of the reasons you were brought here'

Amara already disliked him, but seeing him being such a hypocrite only made things worse. She was never the smart, studious type of girl. She had decent grades, but never too high, and the reason she had been accepted into Hogwarts even though she was in her 4th year was not her grades, but her father. And everyone knew that. Being the daughter of Alastor Moody, famous auror, had its ups and downs, and she wasn't sure whether the first ones compensated for the downside.

'I'm sure I can handle it.' She answered. 'Anything else?'

'Of course! You need to be sorted!'

'To be what…?' she asked confused, and watched as Dumbledore's face changed from excitement to shock. 'I'm afraid dad forgot to tell me about that.' _Damn you, dad!_

'Well then… care for a lemon drop, Mrs. Moody?' he asked and pointed at a bowl full of mini-lemons. Amara decided to ignore that question, but instead sit down in a chair in front of his desk. He told her all about Hogwarts's founding, about the four houses and what they stood for, and how everyone got sorted at the beginning of theirs studies. He then added about the House Cup and everything else there was to know.

'That is the most stupid idea I have ever heard in my life!' she almost yelled after he finished. 'You teach students to fight against each other instead of working together. Besides, people change, you can't just let a stupid hat decide how an ELEVEN YEAR-OLD is going to be through most of his adolescence, let not mention the rest of his life. It's just stereotypical, and stupid.'

'As much as I do like my students to express their opinions and believe in something, I am afraid that next time you will have to use more… appropriate words, Mrs. Moody.' He said calmly. She didn't answer. 'Now' – he then got up and reached for a ripped, old hat that was standing on top of some shelves – 'We are going to let The Sorting Hat decide where you belong'.

He put the hat on her head and let it lying there. It took less than thirty seconds for it to start talking aloud, making an oral list of all the qualities she possessed. The hat asked her where she wanted to be, and she said she didn't care. Then it asked her again, and she said that she didn't care. It took the hat three minutes more to decide her fate, and reached the one conclusion worth considering: Amara Moody was a Slytherin.


End file.
